


Hairstyles

by blobfishphil



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Adorable, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Phanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:44:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6961204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blobfishphil/pseuds/blobfishphil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan and Phil are set to film a Philisnotonfire but Dan messes with his strict hair dyeing regimen. To make him feel better, Dan surprises Phil with his own hairstyle. (Also, I hate the word hairstyle and only used it once in the actual fic. Just had to put that out there for some…reason.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hairstyles

**Author's Note:**

> No clue what I'm dooooooooiiiing!

I nuzzled my head back into Phil’s neck and smiled up at him contentedly.

I did a double take.

I glanced up at him again. I yanked my hand out of Phil’s, covered my mouth, and sprinted into our room and slammed the door (at a speed that our fans would argue was faster than I had run all year…to be fair, it was probably true).

Bewildered, Phil jumped and knocked on the door.

“Dan? What’s wrong, Dan?” Phil asked quietly. He silently went through the reasons I would jump up like that. “Bear?”

I flung the door open, gasping for breath as tears of laughter grew in my eyes. “Phil! I’m sorry, I tried not to tell you, but…y-you’re almost full ginger! And you l-look ridiculous!” I doubled over with laughter. I could see the worry in his face dissipate and in moments it was overtaken by a look of total confusion.

“Wait, what? I just got it dyed a few hours ago!” Phil ran his hair through his red roots. He pulled out his phone and turned the camera toward himself, “Bloody hell! I know I asked them to take out the blue – I hate you, by the way – but I specifically remembered asking for a black dye…” Phil’s voice trailed off and he slapped himself in the face. “Dammit! I knew it! I knew it! It would probably be worth the two-hour tube ride just to get a haircut from Fabrice! But, Dan…” He looked over at me. I was overcome by a new wave of giggling as I remembered Phil’s countless stories about his strange relationship with his (now ex) hairstylist.

“Dan, you came along with me after I lost my contacts! You said it looked good!” Phil glared at me.

I held up my hand, still gasping for breath and wiping tears out of my eyes before I replied, “But it was so funny, Philly!”

“Get out of my way, Danny!” Phil tried to look angry with me as he pushed past, but he couldn’t hide the smile in his eyes. He ran his hands through his normally ink black hair. Phil sighed, “I’m going to go make another appointment. I need to stop letting you in on anything involving my beautiful hair.” Phil flipped his fringe out of his eyes dramatically and started dialing.

“I told you I was sorry about the blue thing! It was an accident!”

“Dan, you spork! How does someone accidentally do that to someone’s hair! You literally – Oh, yes! Sorry! I’d like to book an appointment for a dye…” Phil continued to talk on the phone.

“You’re not allowed to call me a spork, you spork!” I hissed. Phil waved me away.

“Wait, what do you mean? You don’t have another appointment for three weeks!? What! Okay, thanks anyway.” Phil hung up quickly and started pacing around our room, his mildly panicking face illuminated by the fairy lights. He glared at me as a snicker escaped my lips.

“Oh you, Daniel, you do not get to laugh at me! That was the only place in London other than the one I went to today that I trust and I know for a fact that they’re booked for at least another week. That’s a full week of ginger hair and this week we-”

I surprised him out of his rambling and into silence by pressing a kiss to his lips. He looked at me, wide-eyed at first, but he started to close his eyes.

Phil jumped backward and shook his head vigorously, “No! Dan! Stop trying to distract me with kisses! I was saying don’t you remember what today is?”

I racked my brain. “Umm… no? Some obsolete breakfast food related holiday that you, for some reason, want us to celebrate?”

“No, and National Cereal Day is most definitely a thing! I Googled it and everything!” I rolled my eyes. “Daniel! It’s November 24th!” Phil threw up his hands and looked at me thinking that had made it obvious. I stared at him blankly.

“We have a Philisnotonfire due in three days!”

“Oh,” I said, “Oh shit!” I gasped. “They’ll kill us if we don’t get the video up on time. And you’re not going to exactly want to film a video in your…” A laugh escaped my lips and I failed to pass it off as a cough. “state.”

“We were going to film it today. It’s going to take at least three days to edit!” Phil groaned. I sighed. Then, all of a sudden, a light bulb went off in my head.

“PHILLIP!!” I screamed, probably deafening anyone in a three-kilometer radius.

“Ow! Ears, Dan, ears. What?”

“I have an idea!” I bounced up and down excitedly.

“Wow, something that only happens one in a million years. This is a special day, Dan! Ow!” Phil’s comment was punctuated by me punching him in his arm.

“No, you dildo! Just go set up the camera and stuff, I’ll meet you in there.” I ran down the hallway. I left Phil utterly confused for the second time that day. He almost followed me but decided against it as interrupting me when I’m determined often ends in tragedy. A perfect example is the ‘Great Omelet Incident of 2015’. No, you do not get any more information. We do not speak of it.

I collected my towel and Phil’s blow drier. You just wait, Lester. You. Just. Wait.

 

. . .

I peeked around the corner. Unlike in our room, the spare bedroom did not have the conveniently placed mirrors that allowed for viewing of the entire room at once. This, of course, had nothing to do with my fear of the dark and supernatural…ahem… but this did mean that I could sneak up behind Phil and hug/tackle him without him being able to see me.

“Argh! You idiot, what are you doing?” Phil struggled under my hands covering his eyes.

“Phil! Stop moving, you plank! Is the camera on?”

“No, of course not, as if I would let them see my horrible ginger…ness.”

“Philly? I’m going to trust you. You need to walk over to the camera, stand behind it, and not open your eyes until you’re sure it has started filming.”

“Um, Dan? That’s a really horrible idea. I’ll probably break everything in the room.”

I forgot - Phil’s total lack of coordination coupled with any sort of vision impairment definitely leads to disaster (don’t ask).

“Okay, I’ll lead you over there but don’t open your eyes!”

“Fine, fine.” I helped him navigate through all the items that had been scattered across the floor while Phil had set up the camera. I swear I tripped over some type of Pokémon at least five times.

“Don’t open your eyes yet. I pressed record, so just stand there until I give you the go.” I collapsed onto the bed and smiled up at a close-eyed Phil.

“All right…Go!” Phil gaped at me, confused.

“But I thought we were filming the Philisnotonfire!”

“We are.” Phil just got more confused.

“Then why,” Phil paused to laugh, “do you have your hobbit hair?” I shrugged and smiled.

“Because we’re filming this video, and if I have my hobbit hair, then maybe you will agree to ginger?” My voice went from asking to pleading because if this footage doesn’t go into an actual video, Phil will have curly haired footage against me. And don’t let his adorableness fool you – he will post it.

“You spork! Okay fine,” Phil grinned, “We’ll film the video!” He plopped down next to me. “Do you have it?”

“You mean…these?” I threw about twenty Sharpies into the air.

“Dan!” Phil laughed, “Did we really need this many Sharpies for the whiskerning of two people. And before you argue with me, whiskerning is definitely a word.”

“It’s common science,” I said as I carefully drew whiskers on ginger Phil, “more markers are needed for more…um… whiskerning, I suppose. And more whiskerning is needed if we do this video with these stupid hairstyles.” Phil grinned.

“#Science with Dan and Phil!” Phil said and I grinned. “Daniel?”

“Yes?”

“Did you know that hashtags are actually called octothorpes?” I looked at him.

“Shut up you plank, no they aren’t!” Phil nodded at me and I grinned at his nerdiness.

“They are, I swear! Anyway, whiskerning has been achieved, so it’s time to answer some questions! Dan, would you rather only be able to eat pineapple for the rest of your life or be a pineapple for the rest of your life?” I burst into laughter.

“Phil! What kind of question is that! The first question and it has already gotten strange, okay. Um, well I suppose that it’s basically eating fruit, probably the healthiest type of food, for the rest of your life (which I, by the way, definitely do not appreciate) or being Caspar Lee for the rest of your life. On the one hand, you’ve got Caspar’s pineapple abs, so that’s a plus…

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> No clue what I'm dooooooooiiiing!


End file.
